


Untitled For You

by tyd44



Series: On Earth, As It Is In Heaven [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, PWF, Porn with Feelings, artist!jb, jb is a shy angsty painter and junior is a fucking GOD, lots of low key angst i guess, more like FWP, musician!jr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyd44/pseuds/tyd44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jaebum walked through that door, he didn’t know he would leave the room a heart missing in his chest.<br/>But he also kinda did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beat biter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxxing (gayfantasticfour)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfantasticfour/gifts).



> a THANK YOU to my dearest [joey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfantasticfour/pseuds/foxxing) for inspiring me to write this for her AND!!!! for her wanting to make a COLLABORATION out of it so please:  
> this is jb's point of view, go read her ["Primetime"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7145339) for jinyoung's which she wrote based on mine, she did SUCH A GOOD JOB i love her so much please go give her love too!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

The phone rings. He takes a peek at the screen and of course – it’s Jackson.  
  
Jaebum’s been avoiding that guy for a while now, not too intentionally though. Jackson’s just a bit too friendly and energetic for Jaebum’s taste. _Not_ that Jaebum doesn’t like Jackson being friendly and energetic, he just... doesn’t like the amount of people it draws in: when you’re in a room with Jackson, you’re in a room with at least three of his friends — something Jaebum is honestly not a fan of. Therefore, whenever he reads Jackson’s name on the screen, no matter how much it makes him smile, those same people pop into his mind and it’s, well, overwhelming.  
  
He lets it ring for a while, enjoying the ringtone (a D’Angelo song) while finishing his meal. He just came home from his part-time job, and wasn’t in a mood to answer Jackson’s ridiculous questions. However, when the phone rings a bit _too_ long, he gets equally curious and annoyed. He answers the phone and regrets it for a second when Jackson’s voice screams from the other line.  
  
“Jaebum! Why aren’t you answering your phone?”  
  
He plays with the utensils by pushing and sliding them around the plate.  
  
“I’m…eating.”  
  
Jaebum isn’t sure Jackson even heard him, since the guy just went on: “Ah, sure, eh, anyways, JB... I have a favor to ask you.”  
  
He knew it. Not really in a bad way, it’s just the way things go. He’s not sure if he wants to avoid it yet, but a start is a start: “Jackson, please, I had the worst day at the studio, the art director—”  
  
“I know, I know you hate it there! That’s why I’m proposing this.”  
  
Jaebum stays silent and annoyed, as he was interrupted.  
  
“Listen, imma give you a chance to do whatever you want here. Just as long you do this.”  
  
Posing a lame question, Jaebum tries his best not to sound interested.  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“I have a really good friend,” Jaebum internally sighs before Jackson even finishes the sentence, “he makes this really good music, like some R &B and some dance that is like mixed—”  
  
“Jackson please get to the point.”  
  
Jackson obeys, he knows Jaebum doesn’t like too much unnecessary detail.  
  
“Okay, so he wants some cool pictures of himself to get for his album cover and stuff, y’kno, he’s trying to release on his own...” Well, he _tried_ to obey. Jaebum gets impatient.  
  
“Jackson.”  
  
The voice on the other line sighs heavily.  
  
“OK, he wants photos, you have a camera, my flat is empty, come for a drink.”  
  
Just as Jaebum was about to make the most irked expression on his face, Jackson mumbles a simple beg.  
  
“Please?”  


Come to think of it, Jaebum hasn’t gone out in a …while. The time he didn’t spend at work, he spent in his apartment staring at empty canvases over sad dinner.  
  
Also, booze is mentioned.  
  
  
“Tonight?”  
  
“Tonight,” Jackson sounds more content.  
  
“Alright,” Jaebum finally answers and he even starts grieving over his decision when Jackson yells at him ecstatically. He then recalls the time he met Jackson his first year of university and asks himself why did he ever join classes with him. His face is smiling though.  
  
“Just tell him to dress up.”  
  
Jackson laughs at the demand.  
  
“Sure, I will!”  
  
Jaebum still hears the echo of the guy's chuckle when he hangs up.

 

   
  


 

 

 

He stands in front of the door. He rings the bell.  
  
He inhales. He exhales.  
  
  
Nothing.  
  
  
He is already infinitely uncomfortable because he is late (he sort of took a nap after dinner but he doesn’t remember how it happened), his bag is too light on his shoulder (he is used to stuffing his sketchbooks, pencils and pens into it — he liked having it all on himself — but now he only had time to put a camera and keys of his apartment into it) and now he must wait for Jackson to notice his bell ringing. He doesn’t like any of this.  
  
Inhale. Exhale.  
  
He knocks, loudly.  
  
  
The door now opens, a smiling Jackson shows and rests his elbow on the doorframe.  
  
“Where have you been?”  


Jaebum just blurts out an unimpressive _hey_  and steps into the hallway, all while pushing Jackson with his shoulder, hands still in his pockets. He again remembers that he’s not really satisfied with his outfit either: a black t-shirt and knee rip jeans (for which most might think are pretentious, but Jaebum really ripped them while kneeling on concrete floor trying to get the best shot for this short film he was working on) — an outfit he actually slept in, so he threw on a simple (also black) baggy button up and fastened the first button closest to his throat just to make things a little less casual. He doesn’t even want to think about his messy hair; chopped bangs and tints of red peeking from his recently dyed brown.  
  
Jackson puts a halt to this moment of self-consciousness by stepping in front of him to lead him to the main room. Well, it can’t be called a main room since there _is_ only one room – it is a studio apartment, however a duplex one, so the ceiling is very high where there is only a bathroom at the end of the spiral staircase located on the left side from where Jaebum is now standing, his eyes directed at the _living room_  part of the area. It is incredibly spacious, but dimly lighted, therefore it feels rather intimate.  
  
  
Thankfully, only a handful of people are present. A situation that is subject to change, knowing Jackson. With some excited but deep beat playing on Jackson’s unreasonably big home stereo system, none of the heads turn around to notice him. That is, until Jackson yells out his announcement.  
  
When they all turn, some of the faces are familiar: Mark, a blonde slender guy he once met on campus when the concerned was standing on a table more screaming than singing a certain song (a scene that Jaebum found hilariously entertaining), is standing next to the kitchen table with Youngjae, a loud black haired boy that used to go his English class (he remembers being envious of the younger’s ability to speak out so freely). Even though he has never hung out with Yugyeom, red-haired and tall, and Bambam, hair dyed a weird color and wearing a shirt with an even weirder print, they are also quite familiar as he has seen them in Jackson’s company before. As he continues his gaze across the room, he now notices a figure to which his eyes weren’t used to, and it…hurts a little.  
  
He was standing next to the stereo, holding what seemed to be a decoration taken off the shelf in order to be examined. Jaebum looked at him whole: he first noticed the black, a bit ruffled, hair, matched with a black t-shirt and a dark oversized sweater; on bottom were a pair of converse sneakers and ripped jeans, though not at the knees, but at his _thighs_. He probably gave that too much attention because when he glanced at his face the boy, putting back the aforementioned decoration, was looking back at him with his beady eyes.  
  
The expression on his face was vague. Jaebum’s heart skipped a beat anyway.  
  
  


While getting introduced to everyone in the room one by one, all Jaebum was doing was recalling all the paintings that he has ever seen in his life. How he claimed they were beautiful.  
  
And how _wrong_ he was.  
  
“And this is Park Jinyoung!”  
  
“Hi. I’m Park Jinyoung.”  
  
There was nothing more beautiful in this world than Park Jinyoung.  
  
“Hi. I’m Im Jaebum.” He couldn’t believe he didn’t stutter. In front of Park Jinyoung.  
  
“Did you bring the camera?” Jackson took the bag off of his shoulder and started opening it.  
  
“O-of course.”  
  
Oops. He stuttered. Park Jinyoung was still looking at him, with a tint of curiosity in his eyes.  
  
Jaebum was painfully locking _his_ eyes on his bag while Jackson was rustling through the object for an unbelievably long time considering it contained only two items. He had to confiscate the bag away from him to finally take a hold of his camera. Apparently, he did it accompanied by a scoff, since Park Jinyoung chuckled at the situation. Jaebum would blush, but he is good at controlling his emotions and expressions. Though, it has never been this hard to do so.  
  
Looking at the camera and setting it up, he turns to Jackson. “Anyway, who did I come for?”  
  
“Well, for Jinyoungie here!”  
  
_Oh._ Jaebum feels a bit stupid. On the other hand, he realizes this suits him as he ended up looking less interested and desperate than he actually is.  
  
Park Jinyoung looks shy now. Jaebum uses the situation.  
  
“So how do you wanna do this?”  
  
“However you would like,” the boy answers and tugs on his sweater sleeves.  
  
“I guess a simple portrait would be fine.”  
  
Jaebum looks around. The reddish brick on the wall behind them makes a nice texture. If he moves the nearby lamp a little in his favor, it should look good. He goes to the lamp to adjust it and asks Jackson for a chair. A bar stool is not what Jaebum expected, but when Jackson put it close to the wall and Jinyoung sat on it, his knees being spread out and his feet on the bar stool rung, he couldn’t help loving the light coming from the just right angle at his curves. He was small, yet well built and tall.  
  
“Is this okay?” Jinyoung asked while Jaebum backed away working on framing.  
  
Jaebum nodded, now focusing on work, playing with the camera’s manual settings.  
  
“Jackson told me your photographs are quite good.”  
  
Jaebum’s heart quivers at the sound of his voice.  
  
“It’s nothing, really. I’m just an assistant at this studio where I work part-time.”  
  
He heard Jinyoung smiling through an exhale, about to say something, when one of the boys from the group chimed in.  
  
“Ah, don’t you know? Our Jaebum is actually a painter!”  
  
Jaebum instantly started clicking his camera trying really hard to ignore the following conversation.  
  
Jinyoung doesn’t even notice being photographed when he turns to the boys.  
  
“Ah, really?”  
  
Jaebum thinks about things like aperture and depth of field.  
  
“Yes!” Here comes Jackson. “I actually have a painting of his here!” It’s unavoidable.  
  
“Oh, where is it?”  
  
Jaebum now invests himself into the rap song playing in the background.  
  
“Right there," Jackson points to the center of the wall that was on the opposite side of the kitchen.  
  
“He gave it to me...uh, two years ago? Yeah. I like it a lot.”  
  
  
A medium scale painting. Jaebum still remembers the nights he spent on it. He couldn’t sleep well back then, and no sleep meant work. It was based on a sketch he made in an atelier he used to go to. Charcoal and acrylic on canvas — a woman, half sitting half lying down, it is uncertain since only she is detailed, knees bent, legs spread apart and her dress moved behind her hips. It was dark in color. Used too much umber. He had a love-hate relationship with that one.  
  
  
Done with exploring it, Jinyoung glances back at him, although absentmindedly. Looking at his features, Jaebum can’t figure out what he thinks — neither through the lens nor by just using his eyes.  
  
“Does it have a name?”  
  
“I have a hard time naming things.”  
  
Park Jinyoung laughs. The way he brings his palm over his teeth and how a couple of whiskers appear around his also grinning eyes almost make Jaebum fall off this armrest he set himself against.  
  
He seriously considers naming everything beautiful he ever sees after Park Jinyoung.  
  
“Shouldn’t you pose or something?” Jaebum recognizes Bambam’s playful voice, and looks in his direction.  
  
Then he realizes the boys already brought the drinks out. He wishes for one himself, but he can’t move away from Jinyoung. Well, he _can_ , he just doesn’t want to.  
  
He sees a questioning look on Jinyoung’s face, so he answers it.  
  
“You can try out something, sure.”  
  
Jinyoung nods and, although shyly, moves his head at different angles, and arches his back a bit. Only then did Jaebum see that Jinyoung was actually wearing a sleeveless shirt underneath that, now slightly falling, sweater, as his shoulders peeked out. Against the brick wall, he also notices that the sweater isn’t really black, more woven with dark blue, contrasting the red background.  
  
Jinyoung is still unsure what to do with his hands, so they sit resting at his thighs. Even though Jaebum got some great shots up till now, he feels as if they can do even more.  
  
“Why don’t you try something with your hands?”  
  
Jinyoung seems to agree, for now playing with the material of his sweater, figuring out what he should do.  
  
“Do sexy, sexy concept!” Yugyeom is yelling from the side, swinging his bottle a little.  
  
They seem to know each other, seeing the tease in Yugyeom’s tone and sort of offended look on Jinyoung’s face. Suddenly, Jinyoung arches his back all the way lifting his hands in the air.  
  
“Like this?” He replies, all serious, but with apparent ridicule.  
  
The sight is not that funny to Jaebum though.  
  
“No, no, you can do better than that!”  
  
Yugyeom keeps pushing. Jinyoung seemed not to want to let him win.  
  
“Of course I can!” This time he looks straight into the camera. Pulling his hand right underneath his shirt, he drops the arch to reveal his chest and shoulder. He caresses his own stomach and chest, goes on to bite his _perfect_ puffy lower lip, and releases it in visual ecstasy.  
  
Everyone laughs, Yugyeom cheers and Jaebum tries not to drop his camera.  
  
“That’s better,” Yugyeom approves, and goes back to the kitchen to grab another drink.

  
  
  
No one is really looking at them anymore.

  
Jinyoung still has his hand up his shirt. The cruel tone in his eyes disappeared now, they’re just staring intently at the camera. Although, maybe it’s just through the lens. When Jaebum looks up to meet eye to eye, someone rings at the door.  


Jackson runs for it, and Bambam can be heard thanking God for sending girls to this place. Jaebum then turns back to Jinyoung, and the boy is already standing up, making himself as presentable as possible.

 

Jaebum puts down the camera. The apartment spins in noise and rush.

   
  
  
  
  
  


For some reason, what Jackson called chill and a few drinks, turned into a thrilling party.  
  
It isn’t that surprising because Jaebum saw it coming anyway.  
  
Surrounded by an immense amount of people he doesn’t know, and doesn’t wanna know, and don’t wanna know _him_ either, he goes to the kitchen and luckily finds an unopened bottle of …something? It doesn’t really matter; Jaebum doesn’t feel picky right now.  
  
He grabs it by the neck and goes ahead to sit in the darkest corner of the room and that meant sitting on cold wooden floor, back leaning on an even colder radiator that was lined along the wall. The chills he felt weren’t that pleasant. He still refused to go try sit on the sofa, since it was occupied by Youngjae and Mark who seemed to be showing pictures of their dogs to each other, waving their phones in various directions. Moreover, the rest of the furniture was swallowed by Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom, all three surrounded by some girls whose names Jaebum had trouble remembering, and they were _loud_ — giggling and yelling and screaming who knows what. Jaebum certainly wasn’t interested. He took a sip from the bottle, warm sensation down his neck, and released himself from the camera strap that was hanging off his right shoulder.  
  
Crowded, he didn’t get a chance to revise the photos. He spent next ten, fifteen minutes going through the photos and sipping on his drink. The photos turned out alright, but, if he was honest, something was missing.  
  
The framing, the colors, the lightning — none of it did any justice to… It just didn’t feel right.

All of a sudden, Jaebum lifts his head and searches the room.  
  
Despite the fact that he moves very slowly, it feels frantic in his head.  
  
  
It even gets _cloudy_ when he eventually spots Park Jinyoung sitting on the staircase.  
  
  
But he isn’t alone. Next to him is someone whom Jaebum, in fact, knows. It’s someone he knew as Shownu, this one guy he hasn’t seen since university days. He is older, and Jaebum remembers him for being pretty tall and wide and for this one project they once worked on together in a group. He hasn’t talked to him much, but the guy always seemed nice to everyone, which impressed Jaebum, which also lead to him being annoyed by it.  
  
How did he know Jinyoung and why was he even at this party? Jaebum doesn’t remember Jackson hanging out with him. Or him ever somehow showing up at any of Jackson’s numerous mid-semester parties. He doesn’t understand this at all. But the way Jinyoung laughs at Shownu’s remarks doesn’t need understanding from Jaebum. Shownu is still going to keep bending in Jinyoung’s direction whispering something in his ear and Jinyoung will keep chuckling and timidly pulling his sweater back on — all right in front of Jaebum’s eyes. It’s going to keep happening. Right there, right now.  
  
Jaebum averts his eyes back to his camera screen and fiercely clicks on the scroll button. He isn’t really looking at the photos, just losing his thoughts in moving pictures. He sighs thinking how the scroll button simply had it coming. For no actual worthy reason, yeah, but it did.  
  
The whole time scrolling Jaebum was thinking how he wishes to be home now. Away from all this. Back in his bed.  
  
He had this feeling in the gut — not to go out. Especially not to come here. But he didn’t listen to it. Because, next to the pain, there was this small glint of hope. He still isn’t sure what that hope is for, but all of this tonight certainly wasn’t _it_. Only one thing was certain: that his home awaits him as it always has. His small kitchen and his small bed, all decorated with a diversity of stains, reeking of oil paint.  
  
_...Painting_.  
  
Sounds good.  
  
Just as his legs moved to leave this place, go home and paint the saddest, _angriest_ painting of his life, he remembered he doesn’t have any cash on him for a cab (he forgot to put the wallet along with the keys), there aren’t going to be any buses soon too (it’s only two in the morning) and there wasn’t anyone present to ask for a ride (nobody he knows, at least).  
  
So he sat back, a blank look on his face.  
  
_Nevermind.  
  
  
  
_ Right at that moment, a clank of an elegant, large bottle interrupts his fret.  
  
He looks next to himself, where the bottle rests, and looks up at the person that gently dropped it there — it’s Park… _Jinyoung_. Jaebum couldn’t even control his blush this time, he just felt it fill up his face right down to the collar of his shirt. Jinyoung smiles and bends his knees to situate himself right next to Jaebum, also leaning on the radiator.  
  
“Hey there,” he grabs the bottle again and brings it to his mouth; the pink liquid flushing into it. Jaebum can’t take his eyes off Jinyoung’s unbelievably soft looking lips pressing against the bottleneck, his throat gulping.  
  
He goes for his own bottle, his mouth now dry, but the thing is considerably lighter than expected.  
  
“Isn’t that empty by now?” Jinyoung looks at him teasingly.  
  
“Yeah, I guess,” Jaebum chuckles slightly.  
  
Jinyoung swings his bottle of rosé in his direction.  
  
“Want some?”  
  
He isn’t too sure about it, but he also isn’t into the idea of rejecting anything of Jinyoung’s. He takes a sip, all while Jinyoung is still holding onto the bottle. It feels almost embarrassing. The drink is kind of refreshing, but his face is still hot.  
  
“How’d the pictures turn out?”  
  
Jaebum is a bit confused, absentminded over the incredible presence of pain in his chest, but soon realizes what Jinyoung is referring to. He brings out the camera, screen in Jinyoung’s direction.  
  
“I think they turned out fine.”  
  
For a while, they just sit there, right next to each other, looking at the photos and discussing them. Jaebum is now thankful for the cold radiator ribs pressing onto his back since his thighs and hips are on fire where Jinyoung’s are touching. They’re so close, and even as Jaebum got used to it by now (they’ve been sitting together like this for at least half an hour), his palms aren’t, still sweating bits. Jinyoung is either kind enough not to give it much notice, or oblivious to his existence having this kind of an impact on someone. It doesn’t really matter anyway — Jaebum wishes this would go on forever, it just feels so good talking to him, both of them laughing shyly at little inside jokes they already made this short while.  
  
“There’s something missing, though.”  
  
Jaebum is startled by Jinyoung’s remark.  
  
“I...I don’t mean that your photos are lacking,” Jinyoung corrects himself.  
  
He looks deep in thought now.  
  
“I just think we could do more.”  
  
Jaebum agrees, surprised they think alike. Jinyoung suddenly looks thrilled.  
  
“Listen, you got flash on that thing?”  
  
“Uh, yeah, why?”  
  
The boy looks at him a smirk on his face and a bold look in his eyes.

“Wanna get out of here?”

   
  
  
  


They ran out of the building, finally free from the loud room full of heavy air.  
  
Careful not to run into Jackson, who would probably try to talk them into staying (Jaebum’s least favorite habit of his), they snuck out of the apartment and made their way outside. Going down the streets, they chase each other, playful, all while laughing breathlessly. Hysteric, they start laughing, endlessly excited due to sneaking around; not believing how childish they were acting.  
  
Even so, it was the best Jaebum was feeling in months, if not _years_.  
  
  
As Jaebum saw Jinyoung run in front of him, his heart couldn’t help but thump twice as fast as if he is going to lose him out of sight and never see him again. This person he just met a few hours ago, a person who felt so away and enigmatic, now feels so familiar and warm — like that toy you used to bring on every school trip when you were a kid; wanting it to be near wherever you go. His legs start speeding up on their own, wanting to grab him and never let go. Not even wanting to pull him into an embrace, just to hold onto him making sure he will be there, somewhere, _around_. Jinyoung is not faster on his feet, but he drifts himself around a corner of a building and Jaebum almost falls making the turn, which made Jinyoung turn around and cheerfully snicker.  
  
Jaebum feels flustered over the chase, so he makes sure to pay back the same — he takes in a few breaths before he starts sprinting down another narrow street, listening to the footsteps catching up behind him.  
  
A sudden tug on his bag makes his back fly backwards and he lands right onto Jinyoung, but they don’t fall as the boy stops the motion by latching his hands around Jaebum’s waist. He swallows a gasp as he gains strength in his legs, yet before his face could even redden, Jinyoung lets go.  
  
They are still both laughing, scarcely finding support in each other’s shoulders and looking at each other's ridiculous out-of-breath faces.  
  
Jinyoung then straightens himself and starts aimlessly walking around.

It turned out Jinyoung planned out a much darker look for himself, so he suggested taking some photos on the empty three-in-the-morning road. Jaebum loved the idea, him frequently taking late night photos in his free time — it was an aesthetic he was very into.  
  
So he readied the camera, flash flickering.  
  
  
  
  
Jinyoung climbed on top of trash cans, posed next to creepy graffiti on building walls, layed on the warm asphalt with car lights in the background, crouched in between parked cars trying to merge with the shadows; everything they considered is interesting or crazy enough, and Jaebum took pictures of it from the most absurd angles and locations – all for the sake of art.  
  
It seemed erratic under the heavy yellow street light grinded with the feeling of dirt beneath their shoes, and it probably _was_ , but now it was four in the morning and they were having a _lot_ of fun.  
  
They even found a pile of trash, and Jaebum was ready to make solo shots of it when Jinyoung already sloppily climbed on top of it. He assumes that the alcohol finally caught up with him and tries to hold off a laugh, only bringing a smile, but then Jinyoung is throwing empty boxes and glass bottles around, exclaiming he is the king of the world and he just loses it there, bringing the camera back up to catch this glorious moment, all while avoiding shattered glass.  
  
Probably disappointed because he is now out of bottles, Jinyoung slides down the trash hill but lurches a bit, thus crashing right into Jaebum who just cradles him with his free arm, keeping him standing in place.  
  
The boy almost jostles Jaebum when he moves in to see the photos, grabbing him by the wrist to adjust the camera screen.  
  
“Ah, they look great,” he laughs at most of the shots. Jaebum agrees with an equal amount of laughter.  
  
He can feel the dampness of Jinyoung forehead, so close. They both radiate so much heat.  
  
Even though Jaebum got used to the contraction in his heart by now, it still hurts as bad.  
  
“Hey,” Jinyoung grabs the camera and Jaebum drops it into his palms at the feel of his fingers.  
  
“Let’s take a picture!”  
  
He turns the camera lens to face the both of them, and before Jaebum gets the chance to even blurt out anything, flash hits his face. His eyes hurt so he squints a bit, yet Jinyoung beside him is as happy as ever checking how the photo turned out.  
  
“We look cute.”  
  
Wow. _Cute_. Jaebum looks nervously at the ground in front of him.  
  
Sadness fills his chest.  
  
“I… I guess we’re done for the night.” He did his best _not_ to sound sad.  
  
The boylaughs. “I guess so.”  
  
Jinyoung turns to face Jaebum. Jaebum does not look back.  
  
“But you gotta send me these photos! As soon as possible.” He chuckles. “I need to have them.”  
  
Jaebum is looking forward to not losing contact with him. “...I will.”  
  
“You also _need_ to send me some of your paintings.”  
  
Jaebum now returns the stare.  
  
“Uh, I don’t really have them photographed…” He then considers, and decides to go through with it:  
  
“But you can come see them, if you like.”  
  
Jaebum, for the first time, notices Jinyoung blushing.  
  
“Right now?”  
  
_Oh.  
  
_ It’s not what Jaebum intended, but, when he thinks about it, he sees no reason whatsoever for it not to happen.  
  
  
“Yeah. If you want to.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
  


They first debate over how to get to Jaebum’s flat that is painfully far away from Jackson’s neighborhood. They couldn’t possibly walk, considering how tired they were. Jinyoung proposed taking a cab, so Jaebum protested saying how he doesn’t have any money on him and suggested waiting for the morning the bus. Jinyoung called Jaebum an idiot, declaring he has the money and will pay for the fee. He owes him for the pictures anyways.  
  
As Jaebum stood on the sidewalk waiting for Jinyoung to finish his call to the taxi service, he felt something weird in the atmosphere. When Jinyoung returned to him, he was certain that there was a shift in the air between them. They don’t say much, standing there. Jaebum then feels his legs weaken, losing his balance a bit. He attributes it to the alcohol finally kicking in, now that he's relaxed. When he thinks about it, he’s not sure whether they shared that one bottle, or was there a second one.  
  
His legs stutter a bit again when Jinyoung walks closer to him.  
  
“Are you okay?” The boy gets a grip on his forearm.  
  
“Yeah.” Jaebum’s head is clear though. “It’s just that my body doesn’t really listen.”  
  
Jinyoung laughs, looking down the road expecting the car. He still holds Jaebum’s arm.  
  
Jaebum would usually lose it over someone implying he doesn’t have enough self-control to keep himself _standing_ , but this is going to be an exception. It feels good. Being cared for.  
  
If that is what _this_ is.  
  
  


The cab arrives, and they pack themselves into it. Jaebum mumbles out his address before he leans his head on the car window, his eyes tired. He’s still fatigued, getting up early for work today, his current drunkenness on top of it. Eyelids closed, he naps away for a while, although only half way, since a certain person’s gaze is locked on him the whole time. He’s unsure how he can feel his stare so much. Still, it feels …like the way it should be…for some reason.  
  
A burning sensation wakes him up, and he jumps.  
  
“Hyung.”  
  
He immediately finds Jinyoung’s eyes directed at him, the boy's hand on Jaebum’s thigh — the source of the flaming heat.  
  
“We’re here. Come on, I paid the driver already.”  
  
The heat is gone through the car door opposite from him.  
  
The feel of Jinyoung’s hand perfectly woke him up, otherwise he would be cranky as hell over a short nap. A bit more control in his body, he steps out and walks. He hears the car driving away as he goes ahead to unlock the run-down glass door, almost hidden on the corner of the building.  
  
He feels Jinyoung hovering behind him the whole time he spends turning his key and he gets nervous. Living on the first floor, he quickly runs up the stairs, approaching the closest door, and gets his other key ready to unlock, the boy's steps following.  
  
He hears Jinyoung swallow behind him. Or maybe he imagined it.  
  
He unlocks the door.  


Coming in, they both take off their shoes, leaving them at the small hallway. Jaebum steps ahead, showing a tour to Jinyoung. Well, it’s not exactly a tour, since he just stepped into the room and spun around – it is a studio, but unlike Jackson’s, this one is more anti-spatial: there is a kitchen that two people can take up, a living room that is more of a storage room (filled with numerous canvases, rolls of kraft paper, all complete with a giant messy table in the center of it) and, if it can be considered a bedroom, a bed lying in the corner of the room, a bit low.  
  
Jinyoung is elated over the contrast of space he just experienced, walking around the room, well, apartment, and examining its inventory. Jaebum is grateful he hasn’t painted in weeks; otherwise they wouldn’t be able to stand here, let alone walk around. However, on the table still were present a palette, some brushes, some paint, lots of sketchbooks and the _plate_ he forgot to put in the sink after today’s call from Jackson. A bit ashamed, he goes to clean up after himself. Jinyoung didn’t seem to notice, focused on the paintings either hanging or leaning on the wall. Jaebum comes back to the room, joining Jinyoung who is now examining a pile of sketches on the table.  
  
“You’re so good,” Jinyoung comments.  
  
Jaebum laughs it off, but then reminds himself of manners. “Thank you. It’s really nothing much.”  
  
“I like them.”  
  
They were small scale, charcoal, croquis drawings. Men and women in various poses. He did it a long time ago in class and decided to go through and archive them the other day. Honestly, he was proud of them, secretly satisfied that _Jinyoung_ saw them.  
  
“You seem to do a lot of nudes.”  
  
“Yeah… I do.” Why is the air so heavy suddenly? “I like how the human body moves.”  
  
“You do?” Jinyoung runs his hand across the table. Jaebum hums in response.  
  
Jinyoung then turns towards him. Looking him directly in the eyes, he moves his shoulders a bit and drops his sweater on the floor.  
  
“Would you do mine, then?”  
  
He was about to go around and search for the right words to reply, when Jinyoung grabs the hem of his sleeveless shirt and takes it off, swiftly.  
  
Jaebum swallows. Hard.  
  
He feels choked by the collar of his shirt and goes to unfasten it.  
  
“Yeah,” he spreads the button up , “I will.”  


There was always an invitation in Jinyoung’s eyes, and Jaebum just couldn’t figure out where it’s coming from. Of course, much later, he will learn that the invitation was and always will be,  
  
just for him,  
  
Im Jaebum.  
  


He grabbed Jinyoung by the waist and pressed their bodies together in a flash, tilting his head, aiming for Jinyoung’s lips. Jinyoung almost immediately kissed back, grabbing onto Jaebum’s, now open, shirt collar. Jaebum clenched Jinyoung’s shoulder blades and felt his whine against his teeth.  
  
It felt wild, the way he was biting at Jinyoung’s lips as if they were running away, but they were doing just the opposite — opening for him to explore with his tongue. Just as he thought he tasted all of Jinyoung there is, the boy runs his hips into Jaebum’s and he loses it, heat pooling in his head and gut. He pushes Jinyoung even closer to himself, but it doesn’t feel as enough, so he runs him into the table, moving his hands beside his hips that are now resting at the edge. Jinyoung impatiently pushes at the sleeves of his button up, panting for him to take it off, and Jaebum rewards him by taking off his shirt as well. Jinyoung gasps at the sight and Jaebum chuckles, moving his lips to Jinyoung’s neck to  slowly and deeply press his kisses and teeth and tongue into it. As he goes down his chest, Jaebum _again_ feels it’s not enough so he turns around the boy, now making him hold his own weight over the table with his elbows. The action knocked down a lot of Jaebum’s art supplies, but he doesn’t care, at all, with Park Jinyoung bending under him like this.  
  
Jinyoung’s breaths are hitched, so Jaebum hurries to his shoulders and starts kissing down all over again. Although, this time, he pushes his hips against his ass, the feeling making them both moan small at the same time. Jaebum lays his torso on top of Jinyoung’s briefly kissing at his neck and nipping at his ear, all while rhythmically rutting against his behind.  
Jinyoung finally says something, and it’s Jaebum’s name, which makes Jaebum’s eyes go wide and he pulls Jinyoung up together with him, groping his chest and moving one of his hands down his stomach. Jinyoung whimpers, arms in the air, hands grabbing onto Jaebum’s hair behind his head.  
He whimpers even harder when Jaebum touches his dick, gently gripping it and sliding his hand up and down. Playing with the boy’s jeans, he smiles in Jinyoung’s ear before he undoes the button and zips them down, quickly getting his hand inside the boxers. The sound of Jinyoung’s moans and pleas right beside his ear as he jerks him off so slowly even _he_ feels teased, makes him purr. Jinyoung tugs on his hair even harder, mouth glued to his own shoulder.  
  
After a final moan he asked for from Jinyoung, he lets him go to yank his pants and boxers down instead. Moving from Jinyoung’s hips, his hands go to his own jeans and he unbuttons them hurriedly, pushing them down to his thighs before shoving two fingers into Jinyoung’s mouth, him moaning into them.  
  
Jaebum’s dick twitches at the imagine of Jinyoung’s holy face getting covered in cum.  
  
He moves his hips away to slide the, now slick with spit, fingers inside Jinyoung and the boy lets out a most lovely gasp. He feels satisfaction when Jinyoung’s legs already start to give out and his moans are begging for it even more than his words.  
Jaebum barely waits until Jinyoung is rocking against his fingers to pull them out and lastly moves _himself_ inside with a slow thrust. Trying to feel _all_ of him, he pulls out all the way and pulls in all the way almost every time, and even catches himself quietly praising Jinyoung’s ass for feeling so good against his groin.  
  
Along with the sound of the table creaking over parquet flooring, Jaebum picks up Jinyoung’s cries pressed to the tabletop, parallel to the forearms digging into it.  
Now feeling like he’s missing out – he slides out, much to Jinyoung’s temporary disappointment, only to turn him on his back to face him, put his knees over his shoulders and slide right back in, looking at Jinyoung’s red face as it reacts beautifully.  
With every shove, he feels the blood in his head and shoulders pulsate, his mind completely ravished by the view: Jinyoung’s chest expanding, his throat exposed, hint of coral pink visible under his eyelashes where his head is dropped and lines of filthy words exiting his mouth on top of it like the last layer of a creamiest cake.  
  
The look on Jinyoung’s face almost makes his hips stutter, so he carefully picks up the pace again not wanting to cum too early, not to ruin this image; wishing he was somehow able to clasp it so he can come back to it whenever, but then Jinyoung starts whispering “Hyung, please touch me, please, please,” and doesn’t shut up until he _does_. Jinyoung’s eyes opening wide when he works him the same way he moves his hips makes Jaebum cum almost at once, and he feels relief when he feels Jinyoung’s own release stick to his chest. He bites down into him, letting out a few more pants until his body relaxes a bit. Caressing his hip bones, he presses a few kisses to make up for the teeth.  
  
All that is left in the air are the humidity of their bodies and half laughs.  
  
  
  
After cleaning up, they are both lying in Jaebum’s bed in their underwear, feeling too tired to do anything else besides feeling each other’s presence. Jaebum examines Jinyoung’s body and notices smudges of paint over some parts of it, probably from when he bent him over his working table. He smiles at the sight, and Jinyoung looks at him, questioning.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nothing.” He smiles even wider. He also decides to be honest. “You’re just so beautiful.”  
  
Jinyoung blushes, but seems to pretend it didn’t happen. “You still owe me that drawing.”  
  
“I can still do it, alright.” He goes to grab the closest sketchbook, but Jinyoung throws himself at him before he even leaves the bed.  
  
It’s a bit silent for a moment.  
  
“Please…stay close to me.”  
  
Jaebum pulls Jinyoung into an embrace.  
  
“Okay.” Warmth spreads across his cheeks. “I will.”  
  
  
A kiss hidden deep into Jinyoung’s neck,  
Jaebum closes his eyes and drifts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. "touch me, give me a name"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is more of a bonus scene, eyes emoji

It’s his final day off work, and Jaebum tried really hard to enjoy it.  
  
But, as always, it doesn’t go as planned.  
  
The large canvas is laid in front of him, leaning on the table edge. He’s crouching, his knees aching where they bend. The stare between the two of them probably lasted for hours now, only to be interrupted by the dabs of his paintbrush. Mixing the acrylics on his palette, he feels bitter. There used to be a figure there; now it’s just a wave of smudges going around it, and he isn’t sure what to make of it. He doesn’t like the color either, all these years in studios and he still uses far too dark tones. He uses the surface of his palm to smear the part he, of course, fucked up, and feels his tension release but it only lasts a few seconds. Just as he half growls half sighs, there’s a heavy knock on his door.  
  
This better not be what he thinks it is.

Jinyoung at the door. He knew it.  
  
  
The boy walks right into his apartment and Jaebum has to run after him to keep up. He then picks up the canvas, laying it on the floor to let it dry while he deals with the situation.  
  
“What is it?” He plays dumb. Jinyoung just stands next to the table, his arms crossed.  
  
“I want you to fuck me.”  
  
Jaebum presents himself as disinterested as ever, only secretly loving the look on Jinyoung’s face. “Don’t do this, Jinyoungah.”  
  
The boy unlocks his arms, seemingly annoyed. “Why not?”  
  
Jaebum snorts. “Listen, Jinyoungie, I’m way too tired and not in the mood for this right now—”  
  
“Then let me change that for you,” Jinyoung interrupts him, pulling him closer by the belt, kind of hard. Jaebum feels his breath abandoning him.  
  
“Jinyoungie, I can’t, look at my arms, please,” he showcases his arms that look like he was painting using his forearms and elbows and not his brushes.  
  
In response, Jinyoung takes off his shirt.  
  
“I don’t care. Just pull my hair.”  
  
  
He’s on his knees now, quickly yet violently unfastening Jaebum’s belt. The action goes straight to Jaebum’s dick, and he can’t believe how _annoying_ Park Jinyoung can be. He loves every minute of it though, now looking forward to Jinyoung’s sudden late night visits. Although, at the moment, it’s two in the afternoon.  
  
  
Lastly, the boy pulls his boxers down along with the jeans, panting over his crotch. When Jinyoung now trails his tongue along his cock, Jaebum tries really hard not to grab him by the head, throwing his arms in the air. However, Jinyoung starts clawing at Jaebum’s ribs obviously begging for his hands. He proceeds to devour his length, the slight gagging sounds making Jaebum shiver. His eyes roll back into his skull, feeling Jinyoung’s wet kisses and tongue all over his most sensitive parts. He takes off his shirt, in the process wiping his hands off as much as he can on it, and goes ahead to tug on Jinyoung’s hair. The moan spreading around his erection feels like temporary heaven, just for him.  
  
After enjoying the movement of Jinyoung’s neck a bit longer than he intended too, he pulls the boy’s head backwards, accompanied by the wet heave of Jinyoung’s mouth leaving his crotch. He kneels before him, going in for a kiss, Jinyoung’s feedback being the grip on Jaebum’s shoulders. He kisses Jinyoung’s soft spots behind his ears and licks at the soft skin of his neck. The boy impatiently unzips his own pants and goes ahead to touch himself, knowing Jaebum cannot. The action both angers and turns _on_ Jaebum, so he grabs Jinyoung’s throat and uses it to throw him over his side — right over the, still wet, painting.  
  
“W-what are you doing?” Jinyoung is wheezing.  
  
“I’m going to _fuck you_ ,” he answers slyly, still holding Jinyoung by the throat.  
  
Jaebum almost chuckles at the way Jinyoung’s dick twitches at his reply, and releases the boy’s throat to seize his hand instead, putting it into his own mouth. Jaebum would, honestly, rather lick his own fingers and have his own way with Jinyoung, but his arms were still covered in paint and he didn’t feel like tasting pigments at the moment.  
  
Jinyoung’s eyes follow the motion of his tongue and open wide at the sight of his fingers occupying Jaebum’s wet lips. Jaebum enjoys it, looking right back at the, slicked with sweat, blushing boy as he keeps tasting his limbs. Satisfied with the wetness, he pulls the fingers out and leads them downwards, the action discreetly saying  _you gotta do it on your own this time_ an thenlets go of the wrist to yank Jinyoung’s pants and underwear off, along the way pushing his thighs up and spreading them.  
  
Jaebum quietly pants as he watches Jinyoung finger himself with his spit, digging his fingers where he’s holding the boy’s thighs in the air. Jinyoung, in both the pleasure and the pain, murmurs something under his breath and Jaebum starts panting rough in his desire.  
  
Pushing Jinyoung’s hand away, he shoves himself in – a little too rough even, resulting in Jinyoung’s howl-like moan. It’s very loud, and probably could be heard by all his neighbors, yet this makes Jaebum  go even wilder. He picks up a strong, fast tempo as he pushes his hips as deeply as he could inside Jinyoung, his hands slipping down the wet canvas where he tried to support himself. Jinyoung notices him losing balance, so he locks his legs around him for a steady grip, both of them now driving into each other for a while, whispering, calling out for one another. It was all about the two of them; their bodies pressed together, their bodies _combined_ by mutual pleasure and heat growing in their lower parts. They feel so whole like this, wishing to lose themselves in the rhythm produced.   
  
While still keeping up with the pace of their hips, Jaebum rests both of his elbows on each side of Jinyoung’s head, getting himself closer and also getting easier for him to push a couple of more strong thrusts before he feels like he’s about to cum. Right as his gut starts coming apart, he licks a breathless _Jinyoungie_ into the boy’s ear, him moaning loudly one last time before they they both sigh in relief.  


 

The grind is over as Jaebum pulls out and buttons back his pants up. He looks in Jinyoung’s direction, his legs pulled close to his chest and to the side, his eyes looking away in what seemed to be sudden shyness. Jaebum passes him a mop he usually used to clean his brushes, though this time they are useful to Jinyoung who takes it to clean his stomach. The mop instead leaves traces of paint behind which induces a laugh from Jaebum and Jinyoung immediately gives him a cutely irritated look.  
  
“Come on, let’s go clean up together,” he nods at the bathroom door, offering his hand. However, when the boy accepts it and gets pulled up, Jaebum sees Jinyoung’s whole _back_ being covered in paint, and a pattern of the same beautiful back left imprinted on the canvas.  
  
“Well, this one will be easy to name.”  
  
Jinyoung looks back at it, uncomfortable at the imagine of the wash-up that's going to follow, but with a smirk at the concept he just experienced. “Really now?”  
  
“Yeah”, Jaebum hums.

“The title is: _I fucked you into this one;_ acrylic on canvas by Im Jaebum.”  
  
  
  
Jinyoung laughs and punches at Jaebum’s shoulders the whole way into the bathroom.  
  
  
Jaebum kisses his wet forehead a hundred times before pushing him into the shower.

 

The painting ends up getting framed.

**Author's Note:**

> this was the second time i've ever written anything in my life so it's been WILD i hope ....u ....liked.....it
> 
> if you haven't already, go read ["Primetime"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7145339) now

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Primetime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145339) by [foxxing (gayfantasticfour)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfantasticfour/pseuds/foxxing)




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